Process Of Elimination
by Jeldaly
Summary: In this story of very short chapters, the Harry Potter characters must fight to the death in the Hunger Games. Will your favourite make it?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I have horrible writer's block for my other story on Fictionpress (by the way, I have the same username… come check it out!), so I'm starting a new Harry Potter/Hunger Games crossover. The chapters will be very short, between 400 and 800 words most likely, and I will tell the story in a very odd way: whoever's POV I use will die next. Just so you're warned. The characters are a little bit OOC, but I'll try to limit that. Rating is T because, well, it's the Hunger Games. There's blood. But there's no harsh language/suggestive themes.**

"Ginevra Weasley," Effie Trinket squealed into the microphone. "Come on up, Ginevra, you're our female tribute! Congratulations!" Ginny froze, shocked but not scared. It took more than twenty three armed teenagers hell-bent on her destruction to faze her.

Ginny Weasley had always had a morbid fascination with the Hunger Games. She detested the fact that innocent children were murdered, of course, and she'd never volunteer. But she was chosen now, and how bad would it be to escape the life she led here in District Twelve? She was fifteen years old and hadn't accomplished much of anything at all. That was wrong, surely. Fifteen years was a long time. The Games, at least, would give her a chance to do something.

And so Ginny walked up the stairs with her head held high. The walk stretched in front of her; the faces she'd known since she was born blurred and became part of the gray background. They weren't important anymore. Only this walk, away from her life above a pharmacy and toward death or glory, mattered now.

She felt like she'd been traveling for miles when she reached the elevated platform in the centre of the Square. Effie Trinket stood out in sharp relief against the dull surroundings; every part of her was bright pink from her clothes to her hair to her eyes. Only she was real now. With odd detachment, Ginny saw her mother sobbing, and though it twisted her heart, it was only in the same way it would if she were watching it in a movie. Her mother wasn't real anymore.

Ginny looked coolly over the crowd. No one said a word or attempted to make eye contact with her. That was fine. They weren't real anyway.

Effie, smiling brightly, crossed the stage to the boys' ball. She reached her hand in, swirled it a few times, while the audience watched without breathing. Ginny could see now that none of the boys, despite their boasting, actually wanted to go. Pity for them.

But it wasn't like they were real anyway.

"Mr. Harry Potter! Congratulations, you're our District Twelve male tribute!" Harry Potter. He was real now. A small black haired sixteen year old, from one of the families who lived in the Seam but traded illegally in the black market, leaving them better off than many. Katniss Everdeen had been one of those, thirteen years back. She'd been the one who had popularized the illegal hunting. The Capitol, who had had bigger fish to fry at the time, hadn't even noticed. How sad.

Ginny appraised him silently and blatantly. She didn't know him well enough to judge if he was a threat, but he was scrawny and none too bright looking. She placed him low on her list of things to worry about. However, he still placed. He was one of the few people who were still real.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Even shorter. Sorry. Please review!**

The Peacekeepers who'd escorted Ginny here had looked down on her, seeing her as a doomed little girl. She didn't care; she knew she wasn't one. Still, right here, right now, in the not-at-all ironically named Justice Building, Ginny felt small and lonely. That was wrong. Not real. They weren't real. Ginny had no right to feel lonely; she didn't know anyone now. The room felt so cold, though. Cold and big and rich and unfriendly. Too bad. Nothing was real. There was no reason to be lonely. Nothing was real.

She was repeating this to herself when her mother walked in. Molly and Ginny. Always the two of them alone, since her father had died. Just like Katniss Everdeen. Maybe that was part of why Ginny had idolized the only female symbol of strength from District Twelve.

Ginny's mother walked up and hugged her. It took all her willpower to stay stiff in her mother's arms, but she managed it without even shedding a tear. Not real. Not real. Not real.

"I love you," Molly said. "Always, no matter what happens, I love you." And Ginny watched as her mother, clearly fighting to keep her composure, walked out of her life for what might be the last time.

"Why do you care?" Ginny asked herself fiercely. "Nothing matters anymore."

She had no more visitors. Ginny didn't mind. How could people who weren't real visit her? Her mother had. It didn't count. Molly hadn't yet realized it was over.

For the first time, Ginny remembered what she'd grabbed on the way out of the house. A pearl, no bigger than her index finger's nail. A token from District Twelve. Katniss had had a pearl. It had given her strength during the Games that killed her true love, Peeta. Katniss was so brave. Some said that the Capitol had killed her when the Mockingjay rebellion failed, while others said she'd committed suicide when the Capitol killed her sister, her love, her mother, her friend. Ginny didn't care; the woman would always be her hero. Ginny held the pearl tightly. It made a nice token. She'd bring it home with the memories.

"Stop kidding yourself," Ginny said aloud. "You know you're never coming back." Ginny sat down on the floor across from the comfortable couch. She felt her heart breaking as she thought of every person she hadn't thought she really loved. Clara, at school. Matilda, who owned the bakery. Thomas, the butcher. And Molly. She should have said goodbye.

Ginny closed her eyes and called up a picture of everyone she would miss. She finally allowed herself to acknowledge that they were real. And then she wished them a long, happy life, and put them away, far back in her mind. The Peacekeepers found her like that, sitting quite still against the wall.

Her time was up.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Someone favourited it! Thanks for the huge ego boost! There'll be a couple more chapters of the 'boring stuff' (training, interviews, etc.) until we get to the good part. Enjoy the chapter!**

The cameras were oppressive. Ginny refused to be cowed by the fact that there were strangers who would be waiting to watch her die. She was stronger than that. Strong enough to accept her fate now. She was going to die. It was an interesting sort of strength, one that many would consider weakness, giving up, giving in. Did she care that all of them would see her as weak? Should she care? She didn't.

Ginny boarded the train silently. It, too, looked alien in the soft evening light. She hadn't spoken a word since Molly had left. There was nothing to say to these murderers. Ginny found that the reality was far less glorious than the dreams. These Games weren't her chance. They would leave her scarred forever, she realized that now. But it was too late. Too late for all of it. Too late to say a proper goodbye without the world seeing it.

She was led to her compartment by Effie Trinket, who chattered incessantly. Ginny heard the tone but not the words. There was no need to understand her.

Stepping in, she found a delightful bed and all sorts of cupboards, minifridges, and dressers. Enough to stock her District and then some, all for her, because she was being slaughtered anyway. Sickened, she turned away and stood unmoving in the doorway until Effie left. Ginny then pulled off the lovely icy blue dress she'd forgotten she was wearing over her head. She found and pulled out a pair of grey pajamas, the plainest she could find, put them on, and lay down on the floor right beside the bed.

The mattress at home was far more comfortable than this, but she took a savage sort of pleasure in defying the Capitol, even if it was harming her. Ginny closed her eyes and tried to let the gentle rocking motion of the train lull her, but couldn't sleep. She began to formulate a plan.

An idea came to her, hours later, though it didn't feel that way; she had been in an almost trance-like state without sleep, time, or rest. Her final thought before she finally drifted off was, _I won't kill. I'm not weak enough to kill._

Effie, Ginny reflected that morning, must be getting on in years by now, but she hadn't changed at all since Ginny had been two years old and she had been Katniss' escort. The very pink woman walked through Ginny's compartment, her heels loud against the hardwood floor. "Wake up!" Effie squeaked in saccharine tones. "It's a big, big, day! We're arriving in the Capitol in just three hours! Isn't that exciting- why are you on the floor?" The last was added very suspiciously.

Ginny didn't bother to reply. Instead, she got up and just stood there, waiting for Effie to leave. Several awkward minutes passed, Effie not being the most perceptive of mortals, but Ginny refused to speak to her and found within herself something she had never had: patience. She had so little time. She savored every moment, every heartbeat, even ones filled with nothing at all. She was unresponsive to Effie's many attempts to communicate. Finally, the woman left.

Ginny put her blue dress back on, feeling the lovely pearl in her pocket. The pearl meant love. It meant reassurance. It meant hope. It meant that she could finally be like Katniss: brave, and strong, and beautiful inside and out. She was strong enough to face what she had to do. She wouldn't kill. She wasn't weak enough to kill.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: A longer chapter, to make up for the wait. By the way: Janna is a shameless self-insert. I didn't change the name, the age, the personality… So yeah. Just so you know.**

The arrival at the Capitol was uneventful. Ginny remained mute and ignored the cameras, repeating her resolve to herself, strengthening her mind. She heard comments about wearing her Reaping dress, but in a strange, detached way, as though it didn't affect her at all. Harry Potter, beside her, looked self conscious, but managed a little smile here, a wave there. Ginny turned away in disgust.

They arrived at the Training Center in time for lunch, which was bread to be dipped in sumptuous sauces and some fresh oysters from District Four. Ginny took some of the bread but ate it dry; Effie arched an eyebrow but for once didn't comment.

Afterwards, they watched the taped Reapings. Several tributes stood out for Ginny: an enormous monster called Rubeus Hagrid from Seven, who contrasted with his small, delicate female counterpart Fleur Delacour. Albus Dumbledore, a tall eighteen year old whose face twisted in agony of what appeared to be dozens of emotions when his name was called. Janna Daly, a tiny twelve year old from Eight.

So many would die over the next few weeks. All those lives, those stories, those futures, gone. For entertainment. Gone.

Ginny, nauseated, made to return to her room, but Effie Trinket grabbed her arm. "Where are you going, Ginevra? It's time to meet your stylist!"

If she'd cared enough, Ginny would have corrected her and asked to be called Ginny. It didn't really matter, though, at this allowed herself to be led to the compartment where her stylist was.

Upon entering the large, opulent space, Ginny found the stylist sitting on the couch watching TV. "Well, I'll leave you two to it, then!" Effie said in her too-bright tone.

The stylist was... hideous. She may have been twenty five or twenty five hundred, and she had mutilated herself beyond recognition as a human being. She was completely purple, from head to toe, with garish green patterns on her face, and her nose had been turned so straight and narrow that it resembled a thin twig that almost touched her lip. Her entire face was stretched tightly across the bones, making it more like a brightly painted skull than like a woman.

Ginny shrank back instinctively as the woman spoke; her voice, too, had been altered and was now higher than the piano in the Justice Building could reach. "Hello, Ginevra! My name is Celli and I'll be helping you look beautiful!"

Ginny wondered if it was possible to sue for exclamation point abuse; the people in the Capitol used ridiculous amounts. She dismissed the thought and fell into her new habit of observing the bright detail in her surroundings as she waited for Celli to realize that she wasn't going to talk and start to get her ready for the chariot ride tonight.

Two hours, three giggly prep team members, and uncountable instances of gritting teeth later, Ginny was deemed 'bu-yu-tiful!'. She was dragged back to Celli by two of the team, Padma and Parvati Patil, who gushed about the outfit the entire way through two hallways. "Oh, Ginevra," Padma said, ignoring the fact that Ginny hadn't said a word to her, ever. "The dress is so, you!"

"Celli is, like, a genius," Parvati added. "She's so young, but she should totally be upgraded to a non-ugly district, like, soon!" Ginny felt like her teeth would soon be ground to stumps by the time they reached Celli's room. _The walls are such a nice wood... the light blue carpet could be more tastefully chosen, but it's better than a lot of the people... _Before she knew it, they had arrived.

"You guys did a fab job! She looks human already!" The stylist rushed up to Ginny, who began to note the paintings of the Districts lining the walls - very glorified; she could at least say that District Twelve was not the quaint village pictured.

"You're a little angel, really!" Celli continued. "And wait 'til you see the ah-dorable outfit I have for you! You'll totally love it!" The horrible woman, whose body, Ginny noticed, was also ridiculously modified, pulled Ginny over to the closet in the corner.

_The closet is a nice type of wood, but the clothes in it are probably just as garish as Celli. The ceiling's red patterns make the room so oppressive. _The woman interrupted Ginny's musings on the decor to pull out an outfit.

It was very... Celli. Over-the-top, with subtlety a foreign concept, and the grisliest thing Ginny had ever seen. Games styling was often lavish and ridiculous, but this was something unheard of, and it was unspeakably awful. "I heard about what the rebellious people were saying, that, like, there's kids being killed, you know? But the Districts totally uprised against us first, so, like, you guys deserve it, kinda. But then I was like, wait, this is a chance to present a cont-ra-verse-al issue, so I went with an edgy look, you know?"

Ginny reeled with horror at the outfit. It was a simple T-Shirt with leggings, in dark colours, and it looked like the arena outfits from last year. But they were torn, bloodstained; there were parts that looked like rips with terrible injuries beneath. "And here's your makeup!" Celli gushed, showing Ginny a picture of a dummy with blood pouring down her face, an enormous burn on her cheek.

She shook her head dumbly at the realization that Celli had taken the worst injuries from last year. Added entertainment value. A mockery of the pain every one of those tributes - those people - those _children_ had endured. And then Ginny turned and ran.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, and thanks to my new reviewer and to everyone who favourited. And yes, I ship Ginny and Harry. A lot. If you couldn't tell.**

Ginny turned over again, trying to rest her head on her arm, have that arm comfortable, and keep from being bent like a pretzel at the same time. She had long since gotten bored of the electronics in the boxes around the storage room she'd hidden in, and was now just dreaming.

Suddenly, the door opened. She froze, held her breath. She'd chosen a shelf in the back, but would certainly be found if anyone cared to look.

"Ginny? Are you here?"

Ginny jumped. The voice belonged to Harry Potter, not to a member of the Capitol. For a moment, she just let the rougher cadences of home sink in, but then she spoke quietly. "Harry?"

"Finally! They're looking for you - you missed the chariot ride."

"You don't say?" she said sarcastically. "What did they do?"

"They used a mannequin," he said. "The way they talked about it, it's happened a few times before. The tribute always shows up again when she's hungry, though, so they let it go."

"And what are you doing here, if they didn't send you?"

"Bringing you food," he said dryly.

"Oh. Um, thanks," Ginny said. "Turn on the lights, will you?"

"Yeah, of course," Harry said. He groped around the wall for a moment before the room was bathed in harsh florescent light.

Ginny climbed out and swore. She was incredibly stiff. "Thanks," she said, facing Harry. "Have- have we ever properly met?" She noted the bag in his hand; it was meant to hold a dress or something, but it probably contained the food she now realized she was desperate for.

"I don't think so." He held out his free hand. "Harry Potter. From the Seam."

"Ginny Weasley," she said, taking it. "From town. My mum's the pharmacist." She stubbornly swallowed the lump beginning to rise in her throat at the thought of her mother.

An awkward silence followed. Ginny, usually extroverted, was a little shy of Harry - after all, he held the cards here. She didn't want to risk offending him somehow.

"Well," Harry finally blurted, "I-I have the food, if you.. if you want it."

"Yeah. Please."

Harry knelt to the ground and began to unpack the items. Ginny's mouth watered when she saw the fare he'd brought: some soft cheese bread, a few pieces of chicken, and above all, a bottle of water.

Ginny followed suit awkwardly, and picked up the cheese bread. She figured that, as Harry had brought it, she could eat it, right? She nibbled the end nervously before washing it down with some water.

"Um," Harry said, obviously trying to put her at ease, "You didn't miss much, at the chariot rides. Just some people cheering."

"Great," Ginny answered, forcing a smile. "Can we.. can we not talk about... this? Please?"

"I'd rather not, either," Harry said.

Ginny tried desperately to find a subject of conversation. "What's it like? In the Seam?"

"It's much nicer now than it was," Harry replied, looking somewhere over Ginny's shoulder as though seeing the small, dilapidated shacks. "The Hob is borderline legal, at this point, so no one with the guts to grab an onion from the forest goes hungry."

"Huh. The town's doing nicely, too. Maybe sometime we'll stop being the 'loser' District, right?"

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said thoughtfully.

(line break)

Ginny was shocked, two hours later, to find that she had at some point made friends with the dark-haired boy. They had spanned topics of conversation ranging from their life philosophies (she had the view that a life wasn't, well, worth it if you didn't make something of it, and you should therefore try to accomplish as much as you can, while Harry was of the opinion that as long as you loved someone, your life had fulfilled its purpose) to their favourite foods (both said that they loved oranges) to whether they thought that there was something... more... out there (neither was sure).

Maybe back home, she would have liked him as more than just a friend, but tonight she was glad just to have some companionship.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Not sure how happy I am with this one, but here it is :D Please review, and thanks to everyone who already did!**

"Ginny!" Ginny heard Harry's voice hissing through the darkness of the storage room. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Ginny replied. "In a minute." She untangled herself again and tried to straighten the dress Harry had brought her. While she was incredibly nervous for the interview, she realized at the same time that she had absolutely nothing to lose.

Deep breaths. One, two, three. She was ready. "Harry?" Ginny said nervously.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it." There was an awkward pause, and Harry cleared his throat. "Can I turn on the lights?"

"Oh! Yeah. Sorry."

When Ginny's eyes adjusted to the brightness, he took a last look around the room. It wasn't pretty, but she kind of liked it now. She mentally shook her head at the stupidity of the thought.

"You look good," Harry told her.

"Thanks." For some reason, the words made her happier than they should have. "Ready to go?"

"Are you?" he countered. "Aren't you nervous?"

Ginny thought about it for a moment. "No... I don't think I am, actually. They need a District 12 girl, don't they? So they couldn't kill me anyway." Right? Right. Not nervous, not scared, fine. Just fine.

Just fine.

Ginny took a deep breath and started walking down the hallway. Harry followed quickly, and neither said anything for some time. With every step, she repeated the plan to herself. It would be easy. Simple, no fear, because they needed her.

She barely noticed the movement of her feet, and just went where Harry led her. Upstairs. Through these doors. Past that room. Up more stairs. Ginny was so preoccupied that she jumped at the touch of Harry's hand against her own. She glanced up at him, and he smiled a little shyly. Smiling back, Ginny grasped his hand. They didn't let go until they reached the auditorium where Caesar Flickerman sat waiting.

(line break)

"Ginevra!" Effie Trinket shrieked as soon as she saw Ginny. "Where have you _been_? You've caused us no end of trouble, you know!" She rounded on Harry. "And you! Helping her! When you _know _that she's needed. I'm _so _disappointed in _both_ of you!" With out another word, the pink lady walked away.

Ginny blinked with surprise, then decided it really wasn't worth questioning. Instead, she took a look around the place: there were the other tributes, who were sort of intimidating now, there were the little stairs that led to the stage, there was the threatening, high domed ceiling, there was a little window where she could see Caesar, and he was dark blue this year, and there was Celli...

"Ginny!" Harry said. She'd forgotten he was holding her hand still. "You're panicking."

"N-no," Ginny said, trying to regulate her breathing. "I'm okay. But thanks."

Harry didn't answer. Ginny tried to follow his gaze; it looked like he was eyeing the other tributes. Not a bad idea, actually.

As she glanced over them, someone caught her gaze: she was sitting in the spot for Two, and she had the most benignly ferocious expression Ginny had ever seen. She was smiling, or giving it her best at any rate, but seemed to be calculating how best to destroy Ginny with her eyes. Something about the toad-like girl chilled Ginny to the bone.

The girl from Two suddenly looked away, and Ginny realized that Caesar had finished the introduction and was now calling the girl from One up. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard the name, "Rowena Ravenclaw!", but it echoed and didn't really register. The girl did, though. Rowena looked to be Ginny's age, though she was slighter. She had black hair, tan skin, and blue eyes that flitted around everywhere, judging everyone's every move. She had a family, somewhere. Friends. Maybe even a boyfriend. Would she ever come home?

Every three minutes passed agonizingly slowly until around Lily from Nine; after that, Ginny became more and more nervous. She reached over to her left to squeeze Harry's hand, desperate for reassurance, but found it didn't help. The silence seemed to get louder and louder as more people left to give their interviews. Finally, Ginny couldn't take it.

"So, um, are you guys nervous?"

The four remaining people - the tributes from Eleven, the guy from Ten, and Harry - jumped a little at the sound of her voice.

Finally, the girl from Eleven answered. "No. Most of the Capitol people will love whoever promises to win or who mentions a true love back home."

"Right," Ginny said, and stayed quiet after that. They weren't friends here. She remained silent as the boy from Ten, who was a tall redhead with freckles, left. Then the girl. Then the boy. Three minutes. Three minutes. Three minutes.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This one's shorter again, but I need a full chapter for what's coming next. It should be up soon! And thanks to everyone, especially Isabella Katniss, for the reviews.**

The lights were blinding, and the applause threatened to deafen Ginny as she sat in a comfortable chair across from Caesar Flickerman. She looked down on her lap, thinking that, if nothing else, at least the pale gold dress looked pretty on her. She fought a mad urge to laugh at the inanity of the thought, but quickly came thudding back to reality when Caesar spoke.

"Right, we have Ginevra here from District Twelve!" The audience hushed at his words, and Ginny's heart pounded harder. "So, what do you think of the Capitol, Ginevra?" the dark blue man said jollily.

Now was her chance. Ginny's heartbeat became the loudest sound she'd ever heard, and she took a deep breath. "I hate it."

"Oh!" Caesar said, still grinning. "And why is that?"

"It could have something to do with the fact that you brought me here with the full intention of killing me. That you killed Katniss Everdeen. That you killed Rita Skeeter, last year, and Dean Thomas. We were friends, you know." Ginny had no idea where the words were coming from, but she felt heated rage flush her entire body. Because it was _true_, damn it, and they needed to be at least responsible for killing Dean, the sweetest boy she'd ever known, and for crushing Katniss until she couldn't take it, and for destroying Rita's hope of ever becoming a writer.

"Ginevra," Caesar said with that same smile on his face, that sinister, painted smile, "You know why we have the Hunger Games. Besides, _I _didn't kill them. None of these nice people here killed them. I think Dean was eliminated by Vincent, and Rita by Penelope. No one here is a murderer."

You are. You are. Despite all of Ginny's control, a few tears starting running down her face, but she breathed through it, determined to make her point. "All... of you..." The effort of not sobbing created unnatural pauses in her speech, but she forced them down. "All of you know that every tribute has people who love us, and who we love. Doesn't that matter to you? And guess what? I wasn't the one who rebelled, either. No one here is a rebel."

"Of course you are," Caesar said calmly, with a broad grin. "You were all raised by rebels! Silly thoughts. Now, honey, I think your three minutes are up, and you're getting hysterical. I don't think you really mean any of that. You're just stressed, I'm sure!"

And before Ginny could say anything else, Caesar gave her a cheerful wave, and the strobe lights started up again. She tried to say something else, but was cut off rather abruptly by the Peacekeeper raising his gun.


End file.
